


Is This The End (Or Have I Only just Begun)

by space0bongo



Series: Soulmates au (Merlin) [1]
Category: Camelot (TV), King Arthur (2004), Merlin (TV), The 100 (TV), The Lost Years of Merlin Series - T. A. Barron
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space0bongo/pseuds/space0bongo
Summary: The Merlin canon fusion soulmates au.  Set at a fictional point at the end of the series.  This is something I've worked on for a while due to writers block and a general lack of inspiration, and there may be more standalone stories in this universe.





	

Bellamy might have forgotten but Clarke hasn’t. She still remembers everything as clearly as if it happened yesterday. She remembers him walking up to her when he was just fourteen or fifteen years old, left hand wrapped in a dirty blood stained cloth, and demanding that his sword be returned. His eyes were harder than any boys had the right to be but she supposes that’s what perked her interest. Back then children were protected, they were nurtured, and so one who clearly hadn’t stood out like a sore thumb.

“What’s your name?” She had asked with a sly smirk and he rolled his eyes as if to say he wasn’t going to fall for it. “Suit yourself,” she said, returning to her work.

“ _Fine_ ,” he practically snarled. “My name is _Arthur_ and everyone in the village says you took the sword I worked my ass off to get out of the ravine. I want it back, it’s mine.” He demanded furiously not noticing how Clarke’s hands shook. “What would a witch need with a sword anyway, aren’t you all about potions and black magic?”

“The correct term is _healer_ ,” Clarke had snapped before clenching her mouth shut because this was _him_. The one for whom she had waited entire life, the one for whom she had put her entire life on hold. This short, underfed, fox faced boy was going to be the king of the world and she was destined to help him. She wiped her hands on her apron with a sigh, “And there’s no such thing as magic, only good planning and determination. Let that be your first lesson.”

“You’ve drifted off again,” Clarke gets snapped back to the present as ruthlessly as she drifted into the past, and she has to blink a few times to clear her mind of the bright sunlight that had filtered through her window to halo his head that day. Of the smell of the mint and parsley she grew over her stove back then, and the iciness of the cold stone she stood atop of in bare feet, and of the distant sound of war drums in her ears because from the day they met she knew that was where they were headed.

Heading, she corrects herself. It seems they are destined to go to war in every lifetime. She lets her eyes settle to the darkness of the caves in which the last of humanity live now, scavenging off moss and insects like rats while they wait for the nuclear ash to settle. That might take weeks, months, or years, there is no way of telling anymore; Raven died before she could finish the machine that could have.

“I was just thinking,” she licks her lips, “of when we first met,” and when Bellamy laughs: “You looked so angry.”

“Oh that wasn’t anger, princess.” He leers meaningfully at her, his voice deepening several octaves, and he laughs when she shoves him playfully in the gut before grabbing her firmly by the elbow and spinning her around to face him. His eyes are soft, warm even. Out of everyone Bellamy has taken to living underground the best. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, Clarke has always known how remarkable he is at survival for the benefit of his people, but she had thought that this time would be the time he broke. Bellamy always did like to prove her wrong. “It was love at first sight,” he admits quietly, his breath catching on the words. “It _is_ love.”

Clarke sighs wearily. This is new. They had always loved each other in their previous lives, there was no doubt about it, but it was the kind of love between comrades and friends (and siblings who are not Bellamy and Octavia). The kind of pure unconditional love that can burn forever without consuming either of them, but this is different. _This is wrong_. No, she corrects herself, _this is the end_. Maybe not for the world, or even for humanity, but definitely for them; there won’t be another life after this.

It makes sense, she supposes. Love has ever been a herald of death and destruction in her experience.

“I love you too,” she confesses quietly and lets herself smile when he grins as widely as the single Cheshire cat she remembers. It was mangy and ginger and grinned for two seconds before trying to bite her. Bellamy kisses her afterwards instead and she eagerly kisses back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
